High From the Waiting
by LynstHolin
Summary: DRARRY When his father turns traitor against the Dark Lord, Draco Malfoy is left without friends.


Note: When Harry taunts Draco about his mother, he has no way of knowing what had happened to her, as Draco had just learned himself.

...

As the adults talked among themselves, Draco stared out a window, watching owls zoom back and forth."The road ahead of you is not an easy one, but you did the right thing," Dumbledore said.

"I have your word that my son will be safe?" Lucius Malfoy asked challengingly.

"Safer than anywhere else. The Dark Lord's servants can't reach him here."

"What about the children of the servants of the Dark Lord?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "I can promise that Draco will be safe, but I cannot promise that he won't be bullied, unfortunately."

"I can't be of any help there, either." Snape, who'd been standing beside the Headmaster's desk, spoke up for the first time. "I have to appear loyal to the Dark Lord, and if I see Draco being mistreated by other students, I will have to pretend to approve."

"Yes, it's very important that Snape's true loyalties not be exposed. You cannot even speak of it, not to anyone," said Dumbledore.

"I won't tell anyone," Draco muttered.

Dumbledore smile. "No, I mean that you literally _can't_. Try it as much as you like. The words just won't come out of your mouth. Now, we really shouldn't put it off any longer. Draco's absence from the Hogwarts Express has already been noted. Let us try to start out this school year as normally as is possible under the circumstances."

...

Just last week, Lucius Malfoy has gone to the offices of the Daily Prophet, accompanied by officials from the Ministry, and had told a story that had rocked the wizarding world. He had said that Harry Potter's account of what had happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was completely true, that the Dark Lord was back. In exchange for immunity from prosecution, Lucius named names, and several Death Eaters were now under investigation.

Draco hadn't been told why his father switched sides. Lucius was not one to explain himself to anyone. Draco was torn. Having been introduced to the Dark Lord, he was relieved to know that he would never have to be in Voldemort's reptilian presence ever again. On the other hand, he knew that his school days would never be the same.

Prefects were leading first years out of the Great Hall. Draco had missed the evening meal. A gaggle of tiny new Slytherins were being chivvied along by Theo Nott. Draco raised a hand in a small wave, but Theo pretended not to see him. Pansy and Blaise emerged arm in arm. Draco pasted a smile on his face. "Hey."

Pansy put her arms around Blaise, Blaise pulled her close, and they kissed. With tongues. McGonagall rapped them both sharply on the head with her wand. They stopped kissing, but kept their arms around each other, glaring wordlessly at Draco.

So that was how it was going to be.

A familiar pink-clad figure was sailing down the hall. Draco had known Dolores Umbridge for as long as he could remember. She'd been to Malfoy Manor often, and had even had Draco on her lap a couple of times (very briefly) when he was little. He wasn't especially fond of the woman (or her damp kisses), but someone who had given him a teddy bear for his fifth birthday was likely to be an ally. "Hello, Miss Umbridge."

A rather frightening smile appeared on Umbridge's face. "Oh, hello, Draco. You'd best sleep with one eye open, dearie; your fellow Slytherins are hatching plots." She let out a high-pitched giggle and walked away.

Draco's stomach growled. He had a vague idea where the kitchens were, and he headed off in that direction. He turned a corner, and nearly crashed right into Crabbe and Goyle. "Oh, uh, h-hello."

Goyle, who was like a wall of muscle, tilted his head back and squinted his little eyes at Draco. Crabbe cracked his knuckles. Draco's instincts told him to run, but before he could even turn the other way, they had him, and he received his first beating of the school year.

...

When Draco entered the Potions classroom, every head turned. He headed for the closest empty seat, next to Millicent Bulstrode, but she slammed her books down on it. Daphne Greengrass put her feet up on the next unoccupied chair. "Mr. Malfoy, get that lost expression off of your face and sit next to Potter." Snape had a sadistic little smirk on his face.

Harry Potter groaned. "Why am I being punished when I haven't done anything yet?"

"That's five points from Gryffindor."

Draco sat and stared down at the table. "You'd better watch yourself," Potter hissed. When Snape's back was turned, he kicked Draco hard on the ankle. "Not so tough without your back-up, are you?"

...

Madam Pomfrey sighed impatiently as she examined Draco's face. He winced as she dabbed balm on his monstrously swollen lower lip. "You'd best learn some defensive magic. I'm getting tired of patching you up."

He'd been taking a solitary walk by the lake when Potter and Weasley had come out of the bushes and used him as a punching bag. If he could go back in time, Draco would warn his twelve-year-old self not to call Granger a mudblood. He'd paid for it tenfold so far, and the school year had barely started.

"There. You're as good as new." The matron conjured up a mirror. Draco regarded his face. Everything was back to its proper size. To the proper color, too, except for the violet shadows under his eyes. The Slytherin dungeons were a bad place for him to be, so he slept wherever he could-couches in forgotten parlors, stone benches in back hallways, in niches behind tapestries. It didn't make for restful nights.

The mirror also showed ragged-looking hair and yellow peach fuzz on his upper lip. One stopped being vain while living like a hunted animal. The only reason he had clean clothes every day was that he raided the school laundry.

Lessons were done for the day. Draco had homework, but, frankly, he didn't much care about his grades any more. He didn't care about much at all, really. He headed for the broomshed and got his Nimbus 2001. Once mounted, he dug into his robes and pulled out his practice snitch, giving it a toss. It winged away, and Draco zoomed after it, chasing it around the Ravenclaw Tower, perilously close to the Whomping Willow, and out over the lake. There was no chance for him to play for Slytherin, now, but the only time he felt alive these days was when he was flying.

...

Potter had him up against the wall while Weasley laughed. "Hit him again, Harry!"

"Would you two stop it?" Granger snapped.

"No way! This is too much fun. Really, Hermione, after all the times he picked on us, and you think we should be nice to him?"

Granger scowled. "Yes, but we always had each other. He doesn't have anyone."

Potter tightened his grip, digging his fingers cruelly into Draco's shoulders, then he slapped him across the face. Weasley chortled. Granger gave her friends a look of disgust and stalked away.

...

Back in Dumbledore's office. Draco had a feeling that it wasn't for anything good. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Draco. Your parents have gone missing." Dumbledore set a hand on Draco's shoulder.

Umbridge smiled. "They're likely dead. That's what happens when you make dangerous people angry."

"Dolores," Dumbledore sighed.

"I don't believe in coddling, Albus. Now, run along, Draco. I have important business with the Headmaster." Umbridge flapped a plump hand dismissively.

Numb, Draco walked unseeing through the corridors of Hogwarts. His lack of attentiveness led him smack dab into Crabbe and Goyle. Goyle grabbed him by the robes. Draco wrenched away, his robes going rrrrrrrrrrip, and ran away as fast as he could. He slammed into Ron Weasley and bounced into a wall, but got his feet under him again. Harry Potter shouted behind him. Draco ducked into the first unlocked door he found, stumbling into a room of empty shelves. "Mother," he moaned, and he started to cry.

"Aw, you want your mummy? Isn't that sweet." Bloody Potter, smirking like a bastard, just standing there staring at Draco with his arms folded.

"Go ahead and hit me, then," Draco raged. He was sobbing, eyes and nose running. "Why are you just standing there? Punch me in the stomach! Slap my face! You're not happy until I bleed, are you? Here, let me save you the effort." Draco slammed his head into the wall hard, splitting his forehead open. He bared his teeth at Potter, blood pouring down his face. "There, did I do it good enough for you?"

Potter just stood there with his mouth open. Draco pushed past him and out the door, still sobbing.

...

"Oh, look who's here!" Weasley poked Draco in the side with his wand, hard enough that Draco knew that he'd bruise. "What should we do to him today, Harry?" Ron backed Draco up against a statue, grinning evilly.

"Ah, leave him alone," Potter said, walking away.

Weasley looked flabbergasted. "You feeling sick or something?"

"Picking on Malfoy has gotten dull," Potter tossed back over his shoulder, "And we're going to be late to Potions."

Once seated in the Potions classroom, Draco braced himself for the usual kicks he got from Potter, but they didn't come.

...

Draco used to hate flying in the rain, but now he welcomed it. He was soaked to the skin, but warming charms kept him from getting chilled. The rain beat on his face and ran into his eyes as he pursued his snitch with the storm raging around him. Wind slapped him sideways, thunder filled his ears, and lightning dazzled his eyes. He squinted when he saw a shadow flying toward him. It was, of all things, Potter. The black-haired boy lunged for the snitch, missing it by centimeters. Draco grinned. It was on.

The snitch led them within a hair's-breadth of Hagrid's hut, then into the Forbidden Forest, where they zizagged around huge, twisted trees. The snitch zoomed along nearly at ground-level, ducking underneath exposed tree roots and unnaturally large spiderwebs. The hair stood up on the back of Draco's neck when he caught sight of what had made the webs. Centaurs shouted, and an arrow made a hole in his robes. He could hear Potter laughing like a madman as he shot straight up in the air.

The snitch gyred up and up, and Draco and Potter spiraled around each other, so fast that the wind whistled in their ears. Draco went to grab the snitch, but he got Harry's wrist instead. Their momentum caused them to go into a spin. Draco's hand spasmed, locking them together as they tumbled downward. A strange exhiliration bubbled up in his stomach as the world rotated around him, making him dizzy. Harry shouted and wrenched his arm free.

Draco spun toward a gigantic tree, halting his momentum enough that he wasn't seriously hurt when he hit. "Have you lost your mind!" Potter shouted as he helped him up.

Draco laughed, a little crazed sounding. "My broom's fine, so everything's all right!"

Potter tried to suppress a grin, but failed. "Well, get back on it before you lose your snitch forever."

...

"How do you do that so fast?" Potter was watching him get conkers out of the shell.

"It's easy. Just hit it like this." Draco demonstrated the proper angle and level of force.

"Mm." Potter tried, but the conker flew from his fingers into a far corner of the classroom.

"Here." Draco took Potter's hand and put a knife in it, handle down, and guided the hand to the perfect cracking point of the conker shell. "See? Now crush the meat and put it in the cauldron." He released Potter's hand reluctantly.

"Why are you so good at this sort of thing?" Potter asked.

"I get it from my father," Draco said, smiling. The impact of what he'd just said hit him, and the smile wilted.

"You haven't heard anything about your parents yet?"

"No." Draco stared hard at the cauldron as he stirred it.

"How do I prepare the orris root?"

"You have to grind it. Like this." Draco took Potter's hand again, showing the proper amount of pressure for using the mortar and pestle. Draco wasn't sure what he was feeling. It was like he was still flying, even when he was on the ground.

...

It had been a month since Potter had first flown with Draco. They did it three or four times a week. Draco was considering trying out for a professional Quidditch team after leaving Hogwarts; he'd been a good flyer before, but pitting himself against Potter on a regular basis had taken him to a whole new level.

It was snowing big, fluffy flakes. Draco liked how they gleamed in Potter's hair. "You're not afraid to fly in the snow?" Potter asked.

"Of course not!" Draco looked into those green eyes behind the glasses, feeling a lovely expansion inside his chest.

Potter grinned back at him, his cheeks ruddy. "Let's go!"

Hogsmeade looked even more like a Christmas card than usual. Draco and Potter swerved around chimney pots and skimmed along steep-pitched roofs. Draco's fur hat flew off and his untrimmed hair haloed around his head. Potter caught the snitch right above the Three Broomsticks. He held it aloft. "You want it back, you'll have to get it from me."

Draco orbited around Potter, trying to snatch the golden orb from his hand. Both boys laughed so much, they could barely stay on their brooms. That was when Draco realized what he was feeling. Draco was in love.

...

No one knew about the flying. No one knew that Malfoy and Potter were anything but Potions partners. Draco sat on a bench in the Entrance Hall, watching couples walk out hand in hand together, headed for their dates. A boy stopped and spun his girlfriend into his arms, kissing her soundly on the lips. Draco got a trembly feeling in his stomach as he imagined Harry doing that to him.

Harry liked him, Draco was sure. The way he went looking for him on his broom, the smile he got on his face, the look in his eyes... but what sort of 'like' was it? Draco imagined all sorts of scenarios where he could reveal his feelings to Potter. Faliing off his broom and breaking his ankle so Potter had to carry him to Pomfrey. Potter saving him from another beating at the hands of Crabbe and Goyle. Catching a terrible case of Manticorean Measels, and Potter holding his hand, begging him not to die.

How did one go about telling someone 'I love you'?

Potter, Granger, and Weasley were headed for the door. Draco stood up, a nervous smile on his lips, and caught up with the trio. "Hey, Potter, are you going to Honeyduke's?"

Weasley and Granger stared at him like he'd suddenly caught fire. Potter gave him an annoyed look. "When did we become friends?" he asked nastily as he turned his back.

Draco watched Potter walk away from him, trailing behind his two friends. Granger and Weasley were out the door when Potter turned and said something. Draco saw his lips move, but was unable to comprehend. A roaring filled his ears, and his face burned with humiliation.

...

Draco hovered over the Forest. He relaxed his thighs' grip on his broomstick, letting his legs dangle loosely, and put his arms behind his head. A gust of wind could knock him off easily. He wondered if falling would feel like flying.

"What are you doing?"

Startled by Potter's voice, Draco slipped sideways. Before he fell off his broomstick, Potter caught him around the waist and steadied him. Draco threw his arms out and clutched at Harry, heart pounding and breathing ragged. "Why are you here?"

"Why do you think I'm here? To practice with you."

"When did we become friends?"

"Look, I apologized."

"You did?"

"You were looking right at me when I did. You have to have heard me. Um, are you going to let go of me so we can fly?" Potter grinned at Draco and gave him a playful flick on the forehead.

Draco released his grip on Potter's robes and freed the snitch. He glanced at Potter, knowing by the angle of his spine what direction the other boy would go. Draco flew right into Potter's path, making him swerve. The snitch fluttered just ahead of them. Harry tried an evasive zigzag, but Draco blocked him again. "I can read you like a book," Draco shouted happily.

"Bloody hell! I need to work on not telegraphing my moves!"

"Tell a what?"

"Never mind!" Potter went up in a tight spiral, only to be intercepted again.

Not for the first time, Draco wished he could deduce Potter's feelings as easily as he could guess his Quidditch moves.

The snitch went upwards, far over above the lake. The two boys bumped into each other repeatedly. Potter grabbed Draco around the shoulders, deliberately putting them in a spin. They laughed wildly, staring into each others' eyes. Draco leaned in for a kiss, and Potter pulled his face away. "What are you doing? Don't. I'm just here to fly." Potter let go, stopping his spin, and sped toward where the snitch glinted in the moonlight.

...

Emerald green liquid stoppered up in a faceted vial. Snape hadn't noticed that Draco and Harry's potion hadn't been handed in at the end of class. Audentia Anima. Liquid courage. Draco thumbed the stopper out, brought the vial to his lips, and drank. It felt cool and tingly on his tongue.

"I need to speak to you alone, Potter." The black-haired boy was with Granger and Weasley, of course.

"I have to be somewhere, Malfoy."

Draco watched their backs retreat from him. "I love you," he called, running to catch up. When he reached Potter, he lunged toward him, only to be shoved back.

"What part of no don't you understand?" Potter shouted.

"I can't help but love you," Draco said.

"Stop this now. It's not going to happen, now or ever."

"Don't bother flying with me again, then!" Draco ran away with tears running down his face, not caring that he was being laughed at by half the school.

...

Wind howled. Ice pellets scoured Draco's face. Snowflakes were falling so fast, he couldn't see more than a foot ahead, but he flew as fast as he could. He narrowly missed the Astronomy Tower. A blast of wind smacked him down, and he had no idea where he was, or how close to the ground he was. WHUMP. He hit a snowbank and, knocked off his broom, he rolled, landing hard on his bottom.

"What are you doing? Have you gone mental?" Potter had to yell over the noise of the storm.

"Why are you even here? Go away!" Draco screamed, hating that he'd started to cry again.

Instead, Potter knelt next to him in the snow. "Do you think you could wait for me a little?"

Draco got that flying-while-still-on-the-ground feeling. "Do you mean that?" he shouted.

"Yes!"

"Are you going to stop being mean to me in front of your friends?"

"Are you going to stop trying to kill yourself?"

The boys huddled close together, the snow and sleet soaking their robes, and they shivered hard enough to make their teeth chatter. Wait for Potter? The idea was a thrilling sort of torture.

"Answer me, Malfoy!"

"What was the question?"

Potter laughed. His eyes were invisible from snow sticking to his lenses. "Will you wait for me?"

Draco wasn't even sure what he was waiting for, but he said yes.


End file.
